The Gentle Degenerates (The Vassi Collection)

by Marco Vassi

  “Sure, I like you,” I said, and it was true. It was a little annoying to have to give a verbal assurance, however. It had been a while since I went to bed with anyone I couldn’t talk with, or whose head I didn’t dig. All of the sexual games, including debauchery, were infinitely richer if shared with a person of equal intelligence, warmth, and humor.

  Up to that moment, I hadn’t even had an erection. She looked at me. “I hope I’m enough for you,” she said. “You’re much more experienced than I am.” She was fresh and honest and that saved her naivete from mawkishness. Suddenly I felt very much like the impresario auditioning a bright young talent. “Here, let me take your clothes off,” I said.

  And solemnly, carefully, I removed all her clothing. First the shirt up over her head, revealing the pendulous breasts. They swung from side to side with the motion of her arms, and I leaned forward to tenderly take one nipple between my teeth and gently bite. I felt no response. Clearly she wasn’t breast sensitive yet. Then I let her skirt drop, and pushing her back on the bed, pulled her panties all the way down her legs. She brought her knees together and clamped her thighs shut in a pose of modesty and reserve. She was so obviously inviting plunder at the same time she was pulling away that it became an inflammatory posture.

  Up to now the whole thing had had a sense of unreality about it, as though we were on stage performing the sex scene in someone else’s script. I had had enough of that, and lay down next to her; I closed my eyes and moved into her arms.

  From then on it was all magic and flow. All the months and years of knowing one another, and our bodies straining toward each other, broke through the restraint and we surged forward and inward. I grabbed her breasts in my hands and squeezed until I thought she would scream, but on her face there was just a look of untended desire. I kneaded her tits like dough, feeling the fullness of them, the succulent tension of their hang and stretch, massaging the rich complexity of flesh. I brought the nipples to my mouth and raked them with my teeth. She became all hands, running her fingers over me, feeling and rubbing every part of my body. She slid down and took my cock in her hands, and began squeezing it as though she couldn’t feel it enough. I reached down and cupped her ass, pinching the soft flesh and spreading the cheeks apart, exposing her asshole and then running my fingers down the crack.

  The heavy smell of cunt-saliva filled my nostrils and I moved one linger into her slit to see if she were as wet as she seemed. Already the slimy lubrication was coating the pink lips and dribbling out of the bottom to roll between her white thighs. I slid my left hand under her ass and brought my right hand from above, and entered her cunt from two different directions. She wriggled like a worm impaled on a fishhook. Her mouth opened as though to let our a cry, but no sound emerged. I covered it with my own mouth, and was immediately drawn into the world of tongue and breath. She sucked at me as though she were hungry and thirsty. She licked my lips with her tongue and made soft moaning sounds into my throat. All the while she wriggled her torso and pushed her cunt deeper onto my fingers.

  I leaned all my weight over her and she fell back deeper into the soft mattress, letting herself go slack. She seemed immensely vulnerable, and that inflamed me into wanting to crush her, to grind myself into her. I tightened my grip on her cunt and her mouth opened even wider, her arms went out at her sides and she moved her head back and forth as though saying “no” very slowly. I came up unobtrusively, bringing my knees to her hips, and then, drawing my fingers out of her pussy, climbed up until I was kneeling by her head. My cock poked straight out and throbbed slightly; it came up over her mouth and eyes so that she became crosseyed in staring at it. Then, openly, looking her full in the face, I reared back and up and brought the tip of my rod right to her still-open lips. To my surprise, she brought her hands up and covered her eyes with her forearms. I leaned forward and lowered my organ into her waiting mouth.

  She took it with a grunt. Suddenly she became all animal. She made low inarticulate sounds and lapped at my cock like a dog licking water. She gulped the entire length of it down, the base stretching her lips wide. The tip lodged in her throat and I sank deep into the wet warmth of her totally open mouth; I pumped my pelvis into her mouth as though it were a cunt, prodding and shifting and driving hard down into the core of her. Her legs came up and she brought her fingers up to my balls, making mock feeble efforts to push me away, and then pulling me even more into her. She grabbed my cock with her hands and jerked it against her tongue, hitting at it with her smacking lips. I watched her go deeper and deeper into her mindless cocksucking, and when she was completely exposed in total, wanton, gulping acceptance, I began to fuck her in the mouth as hard as I could. She flung back her arms and let everything hang out. She was ready to take whatever I wanted to do to her.

  I brought my cock out slowly, and let it hang half an inch over her face. She reached up her tongue and said, “Fuck me, fuck me in the mouth, fuck my mouth.” I brought my hand down and put my fingers into the sucking hole. She latched on to them with a deep suction, licking wildly, all the while staring into my eyes, watching me, letting herself be seen.

  Suddenly a double fantasy invaded us. The stories of concentration camps she had heard as a child came to life in her mind, the whispered tales of how many Jews masochistically enjoyed the incredible sadism of the Germans. Tales of girls who came to want the men who brutalized them, who became willing slaves. And now she was one of those women, having been called in naked to the suite of the S.S. Colonel, lying amid his dope and music and books and metaphysical dreams of world empire. And he was treating her like a rag to wipe himself on, degrading her, and to her amazement and horror, she was loving it, wanting him to be harder, crueler. I saw myself burst into flames as I became pure Satan, black and violet, great horns sprouting from my head. I fucked my pointed tail, and hunched my haunches over her. The vision seared her brain, and the woman in her emerged wild-eyed and wonderful. Now she was moving turbulent body, living vibrant cunt, yearning breasts, wanting me, wanting my cock, wanting the man, the man, no matter how terrible he was, for the implacable cock lodged itself into her deepest cunt and held her in thrall.

  I moved my body down slowly until I was stretched out over her, and then lowered my cock between her legs. I slid it down so that it passed her cunt and rubbed between her ass cheeks. She made little sobbing sounds and pressed her thighs tightly together. For a few minutes I continued to move into that warm fleshy space, made wet and slippery by the cunt secretions which oozed down from her hungry twat. Then I felt her bringing her pelvis back, trying to get her cunt low enough to grab my cock, but I teased her with it, keeping it out of reach, far back. She began to grow frantic. Her nails dug into my shoulders and her body wriggled wildly. “Please,” she said. “Please.” I was adamant, and only drove deeper between her luscious buttocks, nudging at the tight asshole. Her forehead formed into a frown. “I have to have it,” she said. “Please give it to me. Fuck me, please.”

  I raised my cock a half-inch and she bucked up gratefully, grabbing the head of it with her cunt lips. The moment it entered she relaxed, and with a long sigh let it slip slowly into her box. For me it was electrifying. It was the softest cunt I could remember, totally sensitive and responsive. Immediately, I lost all sense of differentiation between cock and cunt, and we became a single organism joined at the one organ, the cockcunt.

  And then we began to move. Her cycles were perfectly attuned to mine. As I rode a particular wave and started to get hot behind it, she would rise to meet me, and we would take it together until something in our minds coalesced and we came to a kind of mental climax; then a few moments rest, and another wave would come by. It was like surfboarding, catching wave after wave, riding in to shore and paddling out for the next one, knowing that one of them would be the really big one to carry us singing home.

  She suddenly changed her rhythm and began pushing hard against me. I resisted at first, and we rolled back
and forth on the bed, our genitals and breasts bumping each other. She began to push at me more violently, and then I yielded until she had pushed me first onto my side, and then onto my back. Like a great lizard crawling out of the water onto dry land, she reared herself up, separating her upper body from mine. Her breasts, covered with gleaming sweat, hung down fully, the nipples challenging my eyes. Her belly was relaxed and full and her mouth hung open like a wound. Then, with a long glide, she pressed her cunt into my crotch. I felt my head go back and my knees rise up off the bed. For an instant I felt like a woman, lying back, legs apart, head rolling, while a man hung over me, pushing his cock into my cunt. It was an exciting fantasy and I rode it for as long as it lasted, letting myself be open, letting my body be totally accepting. Her shoulders rounded, and again and again she brought her marvellous pussy down and wrapped it around my screaming cock, bathing me in juices and heat.

  Soon her rhythm changed and I found myself moving in unison with her, bringing my ass up off the sheets and fucking her from underneath. She began to go crazy. Her mouth dripped saliva, and strange-sounding words dropped from her lips; her breasts jiggled like a seismograph needle, and her cunt did a dance that is impossible to describe.

  I reached up with my hands and began rubbing her all over, putting my fingers in her mouth and grabbing her tits. She started to cry out loud, “No, no no,” and I reached down and pulled her ass toward me. The cheeks fit perfectly into my palms and I let them ride together, the bouncing cheeks slapping against my palms and fingers. She began to move faster and faster and my fingers beat a drumroll on her ass. She was very close to coming but still holding on inside herself. Then she screamed out, “Oh, hit me, hit me!” And with that I let all my inhibition loose and, yelling like a savage, began slapping and hitting her ass as hard as I could, spanking and spanking until her entire body started to shake wildly, and with a final cry she convulsed and sank her cunt all the way down on my cock and came with long deep shudders and great flow, raking my chest with her fingernails.

  She sat there for a long moment and then sank down onto me. I held her very tightly and she shook with relief and fright. “Oh, I never . . .never . . .like that,” she mumbled. I continued to hold her, and after a while she calmed down.

  We lay that way, half-dozing, half-drifting, for almost an hour, and then I rolled over on my side, bringing her with me. She looked at me with surprise and tenderness. My limp cock was still lodged inside her and began to stir. When she had come, I had held her mind in mine, so that no thoughts would disturb her climax. But now the undischarged sperm in my tubes was clamoring for release. “Again?” she said. “I don’t think I can do it again.”

  “You won’t have to do anything,” I said, and slowly began to move inside her. At once her cunt warmed up, not with the fires of passion, but with the glow of acceptance. I knew it wouldn’t be long and I really didn’t want to start on another mutual trip. She lay back relaxed and spread her legs apart. She intuited what was happening and was graciously allowing it. I just wanted her box as a passive receptor, letting itself be entered and fucked. Her cunt opened to me like a mouth. Her ass firmed up and she pushed her pussy up so that I could move in and out of it more easily. Within a minute I felt the call, and with a long inner sigh of happiness, I let the load of sperm well up and come spurting out, and waves of unspotted pleasure rolled through my cock and balls and fingers while she sucked at my tool with her rippling lips.

  We both slept for a while, and then, when we got up, there was nothing to say. It wasn’t that we were blocked, but that we had both become quite private. I didn’t want to spend the night there, and she didn’t want to come to my place, so we had a cup of coffee together, and I left.

  Walking home, I felt free and easy. At that moment Regina was a dead issue in my heart. The world was filled with intelligent sensitive women, women who enjoyed fucking and who wouldn’t involve me in any nonsense concerning promises. But after getting back, showering, and falling comfortably asleep, nightmares visited me and my dreams were filled with terror. A dozen times figures climbed in through windows to slit my throat and suffocate me with my pillow. Several times I awoke gasping for air, a cold sweat on my forehead.

  The next morning I woke up depressed. I was so deeply into the mood that I couldn’t just dig it and wait for it to pass. I needed some object to serve as a psychic lightning rod, and the first thing that appeared was an image of Regina in my mind.

  Suddenly I was certain that she had betrayed me the night before. It is a curious facet of schizophrenia that, while one portion of the mind understands a reality in a certain way, another portion of the mind can totally negate that perception. And the conflict is so terrible between them, that one learns to accept whichever is stronger at the moment, no matter how far out of tune it is.

  So Regina became the target, and I bombarded her with missiles of hatred and resentment, launching them three thousand miles to haunt her in California. I mentally destroyed her and then set her astral body in flames. I saw her lying on her bed, her mouth stuffed with cock, her cunt a quivering gift for hundreds of men who passed by daily just to fuck her. And as I ate breakfast, I realized that whatever demons lived in this particular part of my psyche had the upper hand, and there was nothing I could do about it.

  three.

  JEALOUSY IS THE most obscene of all human feelings, for it attempts to make human beings into private property; it is an imperialism of the emotions. I lay in bed at night and think of all the women I have ever fucked. I picture their cunts in a giant mosiac on the wall in my mind, and hundreds upon hundreds of the hairy pink slits pile up in a writhing montage of movement and secretion. I don’t know how many thousands of times and into how many women I have plunged my cock, so that I am long past the point where there can be any specialness for me in the sensations of any one woman, any one vagina. Each woman is unique, and when I am with her, I am totally with her. But all women are the same, so which of the many hers it is doesn’t particularly matter.

  There was a time when I felt cunt to be holy, and to enter a woman was the most sublime and tender of moments. There was a definite religious awe about penetrating past the opening and into the actual body of another human being, especially when that opening led to the deep mysterious folds of birth and consciousness. But in so few instances was my feeling reciprocated, so often did it get lost in the woman’s fears and fantasies, that fucking was relegated to an act of mere symbolic sensation. And after a while my sensibilities got dull, and one day I found I was past the point of feeling anything except my own reactions, and knew that I had lost the ability to know the sexual act as something precious.

  Yet with that came a new freedom. I learned that what is important is the quality of the act and not the personality of the partner. That is, between two people there can be a bond of tenderness, a great subtlety of communication, a richness of trust. But it is the presence and expression of these qualities from which beauty arises, and it doesn’t matter who the people are, at all. I know deep in my heart, that I can have a full and totally satisfying and elevating sexual encounter with a total stranger as well as with a woman I have known for ten years. It’s a question of energy flow, and following the logic of that, there can be no room for jealousy, for how can I deny to any woman what I allow myself?

  And yet I do. I have been away from Regina for as long as six months, during that time having intense love affairs, or going to the baths and making it with dozens of men in a single night. And in my egoism, I would tell her about these things. She is not jealous of my physical escapades, but of my emotional attachments. I, on the contrary, bless all her lose ties of the heart, but stand guard over her body.

  I even told her about Marianne, my Aries poet of the three-week affair. We had met at a party, one of those pseudo-orgies uptown, where everyone is aggressively liberated but shows it by standing around shouting inanities and cackling at full volume. I had
had enough hash in me not to care any more, so I took my clothes off and began dancing. Soon I was joined by three others and we spent the night titillating and scandalizing the assembled copywriters, account executives and psychiatrists who made up the weird melange. Marianne moved in fast, and before I knew it I had been cut out of the herd, like a cow being manipulated by a smart horse. There were several other chicks in the room who were giving me more interesting signals, but she came on so strong that I let myself get carried away by her.

  As might be expected, she had a kid, and was just breaking off a ten-year marriage; had just finished two years of therapy and felt herself completely healthy; and in general possessed all the proper attributes of the neurotic young lady of our time. She had to leave early, and I found myself caught up in the vortex of her energy. “I’ll take you home,” I said. And so we rode all the way downtown in a cab, during which time she reached into my coveralls and played with my cock in such a tantalizing fashion as to have me groaning all over the back seat. She was devilish, running her hand down to the base and then skipping up the shaft with her palm and ending by twirling the tips of her fingers around the head. It was the kind of hand job that leaves you tingling at the edge of your come and crying inside for her to put her mouth over the tool and bathe it with warmth and wet, sucking at it gently, licking at it with child’s tongue, until the geyser roars up and fills her mouth with a throatful of bittersweet sperm.

  We got to her place and dropped the kid in bed, and then tore straight for her room. Clothes flew off, and for the next hour it was all sparks. She came at me like a starved dog at a piece of meat. I bucked back at her but she was overwhelming. There was nothing to do but let the Aries power exert itself, and as always in these cases, the wise Scorpio retreated into himself and weathered the blast, knowing that even the strongest of foes one day tires and then lies down. At which time the Scorpion rattles forth and destroys him with a single sting of pure radiant energy.